Swollen Eyes
by vanella
Summary: Swollen eyes. Black stained cheeks. The first time they see eachother isn't pretty, but it's stronger than any amount of glitter or sparkle combined. How two broken people meet. BADE.


_Swollen eyes. Red cheeks. Chapped lips and matted hair._

Fourteen year old girls in Beverly Hills do not spend their Tuesday nights looking like this. At least not like this and leaning against a graffiti covered wall, staring at the concrete ground.

Then again, Jade West has never been one to fit in with the crowd.

She lets the tears pour down her face, leaving black stains wherever they can reach. She hates being like this. She hates feeling so helpless and sad. She hates her screwed up lump of a family for making her feel like this, and she hates her mascara for not being _freaking _waterproof.

Like her therapist said (right after Jade shaved off his hair, obviously) she's _one messed up girl_.

He quit her case, claiming she was too unwilling to change, and undeserving of the attention because she was a spoilt, out of control teenager.

And she smirked, just like she did at every other insult tossed at her.

* * *

_Pale face. Empty eyes. White knuckles and ripped shirt._

Beck Oliver is known for looking unbelievably good, all the time. It's, like, his trademark. The very reason girls swoon at his name and surround him constantly, and every single one of the guys come to him for girl advice. And he'd be disappointing many, many fans if they saw him the way he looked right now. They'd be almost half as crushed as he's feeling right now, to say the least.

He's tired of his parents' constant arguments. So he runs to the only place that looks isolated. A thick, peeling wall. It's blocks away from his house, tired-looking and worn down. Obviously not someplace the ever-famous Beck would spend his time, if it were a normal Tuesday night.

But it's not. He sits down, ignoring the filthy cement underneath his palms, and breathes in the polluted LA air deeply.

_I hate you, you heartless bastard!_

_Shut up, bitch! If it weren't for you, I'd be a happy person._

_You're such a moron! It's your fault you're such a hideous mess!_

His parents fought for as long as he can remember. But it's different this time. The insults are heavier, and his mother started crying halfway through. He would usually comfort his younger sister, saying it would get better and that she didn't need to worry, all parents fought like this, but he didn't believe it now, not after what they were _shrieking_ at each other, hell no.

So he ran as fast as he could out of there, dammit.

He's lost in his thoughts when he hears a quiet sobbing sound. It's coming from down the street, and it's source appears to be a girl. Fourteen. Just as messed up as he is, because, well, no one _sane _comes down here at eleven o'clock on a school night to _sob_.

She clearly hasn't noticed him, because she's just shaking silently, her shoulders bare and so, so paper-white and pale. She could be a ghost for all he knows.

Something familiar about the person reaches him, and with a large 'light bulb' moment, he realizes the girl goes to Hollywood Arts. She's Jade West! The mean, vicious goth girl who's always so put together and _bad_. So flawless in appearance, so heartless in actions. And yet she's sitting here, the same place he's come to by pure chance, and looking anything but put together and flawless. In fact, she looks like a mess too. For some twisted reason, this comforts him. He stops feeling so alone in his misery.

He stares at her for so long that she must realize she's being watched and she turns to him.

…

"What?" She snaps, snot running down her nose. She's definitely looked far better. But so has- oh my god. Is that Beck Oliver? Look at his hair! "Beck? Is that you?"

He looks away, embarrassed. Ugh. He must be _so embarrassed_ to not look goddamn amazing for once. Or has he forgotten, he's not a freaking greek immortal god? Or is he too popular and handsome to even bother with the details, like he's a human being like the regular-looking folk? Jade's never been too fond of the guy, as you might have been able to tell. He's always seemed so hollow with his simple comments and fluffy hair and expressionless face. But seeing him now, with those famous locks tangled and lumpy, his eyes puffy, and arms limp, something stirs inside her. Because, that must be exactly what she looks like to him right now.

"Well, why're you here?" She says, collecting herself and trying to sound hostile. She fails. She's too drained to live up to the meanness expectations she's set for herself at this hour.

"Why're you?" He avoids the question picking at his shoelaces.

Jade narrows her eyes. He's unfazed.

"You don't scare me." He says, apparently back to his regular, cool behavior, even though he looks like a dead beaver. An _ugly _dead beaver, to be exact.

"I'm here because my family's a mess." She says bluntly. "Now you have to answer."

"I-" he closes his eyes, exhaling. "I'm here because my parents are fighting."

"Oh." Jade sniffles, pulling her knees to her chest. "Well, at least they-"

_No. Too much information._

No one knows Jade's fear of being unwanted by her parents. She remembers the day of their divorce, when Jade's parents fought over who was getting Jade. But they weren't fighting for Jade to be theirs, no. They were fighting to _not _have her.

And no one, not even this person who's probably the closest anyone'll ever get to understanding her just because he's a disaster too, will ever find out about that. It's private.

* * *

"It'll be okay, Jade." He says for the first time, unknowing that he'll repeat this thousands of times to her, over and over, in the yars to come. "It'll be fine."

Jade looks up through her leaky eyes. "Sure. You'll be fine too, Oliver."

He smiles warmly, reaching out to take her hand. They've formed a friendship with barely any words spoken, but there's a bond strong between them. So strong that it formed in a matter of minutes. Maybe it's because they're both in the same situation, or that they've both let down their guards, or that they've seen each other at the worst that forces them together.

But Jade doesn't take his hand. She flinches. And then leaves.

_Never touch Jade._

* * *

Every time one or the other feel upset, they start running to the corner of that hideous wall. More often than not, they see each other. Jade eventually holds Beck's hand. She eventually opens up. He eventually shows true feelings. She eventually tells him about her childhood. He eventually lets her know why he's always so good at faking his feelings, and why he's reluctant to face them; he's afraid of what he might find.

They don't talk at school, so no one sees their friendship or the bond between them progress, but there's always the Tuesdays, or the Wednesdays, or the Thursdays or the Fridays.

And they both feel a strange sense of pride.

Beck smiles inside when he watches Jade insult an innocent passer-by, because he knows _why_. And she smiles inside when she sees him show no expression, because _she_'s the one who can see through the act, even if he's an exceptional actor.

They see through the shows they put on for the outside, and they reach through to each other. No one will never know either as well as the other because the _outside world _hasn't seen them without the makeup or the hair. They haven't seen _them._

* * *

One late night, when they're crouched down next to the _wall,_ in each other's embrace, Beck asks her on a date.

She says no.

He looks hurt.

She tells him he doesn't mean anything like _that _to her, but she's lying. He means so much to her on thousands of different levels. But she's not going to _admit it_.

He looks away, pain evident on his face, and she's aching inside to let this happen to him. Her fault, too. But trusting is hard for some, especially those who honestly believe no one could ever want or love them, because their parents did not.

* * *

Beck gets a girlfriend one day. She's the dictionary definition of blonde bimbo.

Jade hates her.

Beck stops coming to the spot.

Jade feels forgotten.

One day she goes to feed the ducks. Yeah, yeah, everyone knows she hates the retched creatures, but her therapist said to try to get along with the things she hates. Before he, you know, declared her hopeless and stuff.

And she sees that gangly monstrosity and _her Beck._

The girl, Modessa, wraps her skinny arms around Beck's shoulders, whispering something stupid, no doubt. When has a blonde bimbo been known to whisper anything intelligent?

Suddenly Jade is overrun with a feeling of real anger, and she acts on it.

She marches straight up to the happy couple, yanks the blonde away from Beck, _her Beck_, who's been wearing an expression of shock and slight glee. Well, that's what Jade sees. What anyone else's brain could register would be indifference.

The girl's bony body is promptly flung into the pond, and Jade West lunges for the boy.

He kisses her back, full force, and they know, that instant, that they're perfect.

* * *

And people look at them, in shock and confusion, wondering how in the world those two ever end up together, for so long, too.

But all things considered, it would be astonishing if Jade West and Beck Oliver had _not _fallen in love.

* * *

**I had that Idea for a while now, and just typed it out. I hope you enjoyed it, and if you didn't, do tell why in the reviews. Seriously guys, review. You have no idea how frustrating it is to work hours on something and get the exact total of….. one review. Wait- you do. 'Cause you're writers. So leave a friggin review!**

…**Thanks. By the way, the last part comes from Dan Schneider's own personal announcement. Yup.**


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